Nearly thirty years ago, I received a phone call informing me that my great uncle, Morris, who had remarried at age 81 or 82, had died of heat stroke. I got on my bicycle and rode in a daze for a long while. While riding and watching the pavement move beneath me, this came to me: "We are here to teach peace and practice love. That's all."
I don't know if this is actually true or not. I do not find myself guided by peace or love a fair amount of the time. Maybe that's not the point. A moment of love, or a moment of peace, may be all we can ask for; such moments may be a miracle in the hell realm that is also life. I just don't know and have long since given up trying to figure out such mysteries.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
While walking in the neighborhood this afternoon, I spoke to my mother and thanked her for inspiring the idea for this blog. I tried to explain to her what I was endeavoring to do, but she sounded confused. I asked Mom whether she could answer one of the two questions that I have posed for Our Legacy, and she responded this way:
"I grew up, I got married, raised a family, and now I'm bitching. What else is there to say?"
I'm not sure which question her response applies to. . . could be either one. At any rate, it's at least a start!
"I grew up, I got married, raised a family, and now I'm bitching. What else is there to say?"
I'm not sure which question her response applies to. . . could be either one. At any rate, it's at least a start!
It occurred to me that the following quote from Alfred D. Souza could be considered a legacy of sorts; I have certainly found it to be a helpful reminder on numerous occassions:
For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin — real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.
Introducing Our Legacy
Last week, I was thinking about another way to prompt my 86 year old mother to do some writing.
It occurred to me that I could send her two simple questions to respond to. . . I was sure she might be willing to do that much.
Then, it occurred to me that others might wish to respond to these same two questions and post their responses online for loved ones--now or in the future--or the world to read.
The two questions were inspired by Henry David Thoreau, a 19th century Transcendentalist and author of Walden, whose writings I greatly admire. Thus, I will introduce the two questions by the responses he gave to them. What, then, are these questions?
* Who was I? (Which of course could be framed in the present tense, if you prefer: Who am I?)
* What did I live for?
Over the course of his short life, Thoreau answered the first question a number of times. To a prospective employer, the naturalist wrote in 1847:
"I am a Schoolmaster--a Private Tutor, a Surveyor--a Gardener, a Farmer--a Painter, I mean a
House-Painter, a Carpenter, a Mason, a Day-Laborer, a Pencil-Maker, a Glass-paper Maker, a Writer, and sometimes a Poetaster. "
On another occasion, writing in his Journal, September 7, 1851, Thoreau observed:
"My profession is to be always on the alert to find God in nature, to know his lurking-places, to attend all the oratorios, the operas, in nature."
As for the second question, Thoreau provided an extensive description of what he lived for (which
formed part of the chapter heading in Walden):
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to confront only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion. "
So, then, this is Thoreau's answer to the two questions: Who was I? and What I lived for?
Will you give some thought to the questions and share with your loved ones and with the world, who you were and what you lived for?
*******************************************************************************
In addition to being a psychotherapist, I happen to be a haiku poet, and have been inspired by a longstanding tradition in Japanese haiku poetry to pen a farewell poem that conveys the essence of one's spiritual legacy, as Zen scholar Yoel Hoffmann puts it in Japanese Death Poems. Instead of posting your responses to the questions I posed above, perhaps you may prefer to post a short poem or death awareness haiku (a haiku written with awareness of your own mortality) that can serve as your legacy. The word "legacy" derives from the Latin word, legare, which means to "bequeath." What spiritual truth can you offer as a gift to family and friends, to the human family that you belong to?
There are several haiku that I am fond of, which I would like to share. They may point to something ineffable that matters deeply:
zen garden
nothing
stands out
in pine shade
for a while I forget
this life will end
checkout time is noon
I turn in the key
and everything else
Thank you for visiting this site and posting your own legacy or a legacy of someone you have loved and lost. Please consider letting others know about the site as well. One and all are welcome to share their truth, love and wisdom here.
Robert Epstein
El Cerrito, CA
23 September 2012
Last week, I was thinking about another way to prompt my 86 year old mother to do some writing.
It occurred to me that I could send her two simple questions to respond to. . . I was sure she might be willing to do that much.
Then, it occurred to me that others might wish to respond to these same two questions and post their responses online for loved ones--now or in the future--or the world to read.
The two questions were inspired by Henry David Thoreau, a 19th century Transcendentalist and author of Walden, whose writings I greatly admire. Thus, I will introduce the two questions by the responses he gave to them. What, then, are these questions?
* Who was I? (Which of course could be framed in the present tense, if you prefer: Who am I?)
* What did I live for?
Over the course of his short life, Thoreau answered the first question a number of times. To a prospective employer, the naturalist wrote in 1847:
"I am a Schoolmaster--a Private Tutor, a Surveyor--a Gardener, a Farmer--a Painter, I mean a
House-Painter, a Carpenter, a Mason, a Day-Laborer, a Pencil-Maker, a Glass-paper Maker, a Writer, and sometimes a Poetaster. "
On another occasion, writing in his Journal, September 7, 1851, Thoreau observed:
"My profession is to be always on the alert to find God in nature, to know his lurking-places, to attend all the oratorios, the operas, in nature."
As for the second question, Thoreau provided an extensive description of what he lived for (which
formed part of the chapter heading in Walden):
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to confront only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion. "
So, then, this is Thoreau's answer to the two questions: Who was I? and What I lived for?
As an alternative to the questions, you might try your hand at limiting your responses to six words as in the spirit of Larry Smith's six word memoir books. Believe it or not, he challenges writers to record their memoirs in six words! At one of Larry's book readings a few years ago, I came up with this (tongue-in-cheek):
Couldn't do anything else became a therapist.
Will you give some thought to the questions and share with your loved ones and with the world, who you were and what you lived for?
*******************************************************************************
In addition to being a psychotherapist, I happen to be a haiku poet, and have been inspired by a longstanding tradition in Japanese haiku poetry to pen a farewell poem that conveys the essence of one's spiritual legacy, as Zen scholar Yoel Hoffmann puts it in Japanese Death Poems. Instead of posting your responses to the questions I posed above, perhaps you may prefer to post a short poem or death awareness haiku (a haiku written with awareness of your own mortality) that can serve as your legacy. The word "legacy" derives from the Latin word, legare, which means to "bequeath." What spiritual truth can you offer as a gift to family and friends, to the human family that you belong to?
There are several haiku that I am fond of, which I would like to share. They may point to something ineffable that matters deeply:
zen garden
nothing
stands out
in pine shade
for a while I forget
this life will end
checkout time is noon
I turn in the key
and everything else
Thank you for visiting this site and posting your own legacy or a legacy of someone you have loved and lost. Please consider letting others know about the site as well. One and all are welcome to share their truth, love and wisdom here.
Robert Epstein
El Cerrito, CA
23 September 2012
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